


Anything, Everything Else.

by olitwat



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Normal Louis, Ordinary Harry, Ordinary Louis, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, normal harry, one direction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:59:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olitwat/pseuds/olitwat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p>Louis has news, and Harry isn't sure how to take it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first Larry fic ever. comments/constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!

It’s the middle of the school year, past Christmas and Harry and Louis have both come back from a long winter break from college Louis had gone to Colorado with his family to ski.

Harry had gone to Florida, because December in Florida hasn’t been cold in ages and he and his family hate the cold. Especially Gemma. Harry can deal with it but Gemma cries if it's too cold when she goes outside.

When Harry calls Louis, he can tell something is different. It’s in his voice. He isn’t the same happy Louis from before, telling him about his ski adventures, adventures in the lodge, round a bonfire in the middle of a forest, taking a piss in the freezing fucking cold and being worried it would freeze on his dick.

He isn’t the same and that worries Harry.

“Lou? You okay, babe?” he asks, leaning on the counter in the kitchen in the house they share.

“We need to talk, Haz.” The high pitched voice coming through the speaker sounds like crumbled up paper. Still Louis, but not perfect, loud, clear as a bell Louis. And this is why Harry is worried. Because Louis is the sun and right about now he sounds like an avalanche, just crumbling, coming down, down, down.

“Yeah, sure. Anything,” he replies, though his heart is pounding against his chest, so hard he thinks maybe he’s actually dying.

The fact that Louis has called him Haz and sounds like something’s gone extremely wrong-- all at the same time, mind-- worries Harry too.

“What is it?” Harry asks, now furiously chewing on his bottom lip and wishing he had a stick of gum right about now. He'd be chewing furiously right now and his mom would be scolding him, saying something about arthritis in the jaw but he wouldn't care, because it helps take the edge off, keeps him focused on holding it in his mouth, chewing it into random mindless little shapes. At this moment, he'd rather be focused on gum than on Louis's voice, which isn't really Louis's.

“Not now. Not… “ a heavy sigh from Louis. _Oh no_. “Not over the phone.”

“Yeah, sure,” he says again. “Anything.” Anything for Louis goddamn Tomlinson.

“I’ll come over in a bit, yeah?” Louis says, and before Harry can respond he’s hung up, which has never happened before. And now Harry’s so worried he thinks if he worries any harder his hair might fall out, because where could Louis possibly be that isn’t their apartment?

So he sits on the couch and flips through the channels, tries not to worry. Soon he’s just flipping aimlessly, thinking about what it might be. _He’s leaving me._ _After three years he’s finally thrown in the towel-_ was the main thought, the thought that frequented his mind. But then the other thoughts came barging in- _No, it can’t be that. You’re so happy together. Louis always does that crinkly eyed smile with you that he never really does for anybody else._

And Harry’s going through this tidal wave of maybe it’s this, maybe it’s that. But he won’t know until Louis knocks on that godforsaken door.

Then his mind starts to focus on Louis. Louis with his feathery fringe. Louis with his bright, sparkly blue irises, crinkly eyes, and sharp, cheekbones. Louis with his tiny tummy, ridiculously perfect ass, sun kissed skin—which was that without even sun bathing—gloriously thick, toned thighs that Harry just wanted to kiss and bite and…

Soon, there’s a polite little knock on the door and Harry knows it’s Louis. He should be happy. He should jump up from his seat on the couch and throw the door open and scoop petite little Louis into his arms and spin him around and kiss all over his pretty fucking face.

He freezes instead.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry freezes when he hears the light rap, three times not too loud and almost like a small child is knocking. But he knows it’s Louis, and not a small child. Louis happens to be taller, curvier than a small child. Harry loves that about him, how small he is, but not too small.

Harry stands and slowly walks to the door, his legs feeling like they could give way at any minute. Unstable, much like his heart. It’s pumping erratically, sometimes disappearing altogether, and Harry thinks that’s sort of foreboding, like maybe Louis’s about to give back the pieces of his heart Harry gave.

Except there’s just one thing. Harry gave Louis all of his heart, so he can’t be doing that. Louis can’t be giving it back because that just isn’t fair and really what it is is cruel. Cold-hearted. But Louis doesn’t have a problem being cold-hearted when he needs to be, except when it comes to Harry.

Right?

He opens the door, and there he is. Pretty little Louis Tomlinson, looking as small as ever, thighs looking toned as ever—probably from the skiing. And coming out of the car he came in, a silver Volkswagen, another boy he doesn’t think he’s ever seen before. He doesn’t know why the boy’s here. Louis must’ve seen him staring at the strange boy, must’ve seen the confused yet angry look on his face. “It’s fine, Harry. Daniel drove me here,” Louis said.

And Harry carded a hand through his hair, still extremely distressed.

“Yeah, er… You said you needed to talk?” Harry sighed. “How was the drive back?” he asks, just to be polite, because to be quite honest he doesn’t give a rat’s fart about the drive. He just wants to know what Louis needs to talk to him about.

“It was okay. Listen, Harry…”

“—Don’t, okay?” Harry says through gritted teeth. “Don’t, let’s just… Whatever this is, let’s just sit down with a cup of coffee and sort this out. Just, fuckin’ don’t, Louis. Please.”

And now Louis looks conflicted, distressed even, and Harry can’t take it, he just wants to surge forward and kiss the wrinkles off his forehead, kiss the frown off his face. But it’s not time for kissing, it’s time for talking, which is quite literally the last thing Harry wants to do at this moment. Maybe second to last. Last thing on the list is breaking up.

“Harry, we have to do this now. I—I can’t do this anymore. I—“

And now Harry interrupts him. “Do what, exactly? What can’t you do?” Harry says, his fingers tugging through his hands again.

“This, Harry! This pretending thing. Pretending we’re in love, pretending we’re happy, pretending everything’s okay, when you know everything hasn’t been okay since last year.” And Harry freezes.

“That’s not fair,” Harry says lowly, emeralds meeting the ocean in a glare. “That’s not even fucking fair, Louis. I wasn’t pretending. I fuckin’ love you. I love you. I’ve loved you for four years and we haven’t even been together that long.”

“Harry, don’t make this—“

“Harder than it needs to be,” he mocks. “Oh, shove it Louis.”

“I’m done, Harry.”

Harry’s about to make another rude quip when he pauses. Ah. Those are the magic words. “Done with what, exactly?” he says, his voice smaller than it was thirty seconds ago.

“Done with us. Done with you. I’m not okay, and I haven’t been okay since you—“

Harry’s eyes darken in a stern glare; Louis knows not to bring up that day. And now Harry wishes it had never happened, because maybe… No. Things wouldn’t have changed. This was going to happen regardless, and Louis’s using it as an excuse because he has been okay. He’s been giggling and smiling that crinkly eyed smile and curling up on his lap and waking him up with morning sex and everything’s been great the past few months so why? Why now?

“So what’s the real reason?” Harry asks lowly. He knows being unhappy isn’t it. Louis looks down nervously and shuffles his feet, wrinkles in his forehead ever so prominent. This is stressing him out. Good. Let it. Then he looks out the window and sees ‘Daniel’ standing by the car smoking a cigarette and he knows. 

“No…” Everything’s just begun to flood, wash all the good away, to wash all the possible good away. “Louis, what the fuck?” Louis flinches, and he knows why but right about now he doesn’t give a flying fuck. “Him?” he asks incredulously.  
Louis’s eyes widen and he takes a step back. “Harry, I—“

“No, spare me the fucking excuses. I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid.” He swipes a hand over his face. “When?”

Louis shakes his head now, as if Harry doesn’t understand. But oh, does he understand. He understands perfectly and it hurts. It hurts to breathe and it’s Louis who’s doing it. It’s Louis who’s taken his breath away and this time he doesn’t think he likes it as much as he used to.

“When, Louis.” He demands through gritted teeth.

“Twas made official last week,” Louis says meekly, refusing to make eye contact with Harry.

“And you didn’t think to tell me before I got excited we were going to see each other after weeks being apart? You didn’t think to tell me you were falling for someone else when we were having phone sex four days ago? Four fucking days ago?”

Louis doesn’t speak for a minute now. And Harry knows what he’s thinking. “How was I supposed to tell you?”

“Fuck if I know, stamp it on a goddamn postcard if you want. But don’t fuckin’ string me along for the entire break thinking I had something good to come home to when I’m comin’ home to an empty house and it’s stayin’ that way.” He presses his fists to his eyes to try to keep the tears at bay. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t want to know why Louis was leaving him for somebody else. He’d never find somebody he loved more than Louis and that killed him. Cut him down and through the bone.

“Harry…” Louis says, stepping forward to maybe try and comfort him.

“Fuck off.”

Louis winces again, and it should hurt Harry but it doesn’t. It just makes him even angrier, even more hurt and upset that after all this time, Louis’s still afraid and still leaving.

“Get out,” he whispers. He hears Louis take a deep breath. “Now.”

It’s a few seconds before he hears footsteps padding down the hall. It’s even longer before he hears the turn of the doorknob that means Louis really is leaving, really is fallen for somebody that’s not Harry.

It feels like an eternity before the door shuts and Harry takes his hands from his eyes. His vision is blurred but through his tears he can’t see Louis or any trace of him. He’s gone.

Harry’s gone too.


End file.
